More Than Worthless
by Grey's Princess
Summary: The scars of his past mistakes would come to haunt him. KyoXTohru, oneshot


Her left shoulder was the one thing that truly made him hate himself.

This, of course, was a bit of a problem, since everybody knew how unbelievably, mindbogglingly cute Tohru was in spaghetti strap summer dresses, and Kyo sure as heck wasn't going to stop her from wearing that kind of adorable stuff just because it made him loathe himself. He couldn't take that image of perfection from the world simply for _his_ comfort. He was cursed, he was the cat, he was _worthless_. His self-esteem didn't matter. So she continued to wear sweet little dresses and the like, and he continued to keep his mouth shut, and day after day her left shoulder would haunt him with the memory of exactly what he had done.

For visible to all on her left shoulder were three long, jagged scars.

He had put them there, he knew, that terrible day in the rain when his juzu beads, his one safeguard, had been taken from him. He'd been terrified that day, so sure that now that she'd seen that awful form, he'd become worthless in her eyes. So scared that she'd pour pity on him, just like all the rest. And that would have been the worst thing possible, because before she'd genuinely _cared_ about him a bit, and for the first time in his life, he'd felt like he could be something more than the useless monster his family painted him as. Even then, some small part of him had already come to terms with his love for her, and that part realized that pity was the farthest thing from what he wanted to receive from her. And so.

He'd made up his mind right then and there, as memories of his mother and his father and of worthless flashed through his head in that little clearing. He knew what he had to do. He was the cat, the cursed one- it wasn't like someone like him deserved anyone to care about them anyway. But he couldn't handle the pity. The pity had killed his mother. And if he didn't want the pity, he'd have to make sure that Tohru having pity for him was utterly impossible. He had to _make_ himself worthless- a monster- to make sure nobody would be hurt by this.

Every second of it killed him, bringing him just as much pain as the shame of being seen in that hideous form he'd tried so hard to hide. Even knowing that it was what he had to do if he wanted to protect the both of them didn't make it anywhere near easy to yell at her to stay away when all he craved was to be near her forever. And things had just gotten worse when she continued to come closer. He'd been so desperate in that moment to make her leave so he could just be worthless on his own somewhere else; it'd seemed the only thing he could do to keep her away was to hurt her physically.

Why hadn't he _seen_ it then? Why couldn't he have prevented it?

And so he'd given her that scratch on her left shoulder, and still she'd stayed right there beside him until he'd realized she was right and allowed her to carry him- with her shoe missing and her shoulder throbbing and everything- back home. And while he could take back all the awful things he'd said to her, there was nothing he could ever do to reverse the wounds he'd given her. From that point on, he knew he was stuck with the consequences, whatever they might be.

Hatori did what he could, breaking his "family only" rule for Tohru to heal her scratches- the scratches _he_ had given her. But even Hatori couldn't completely reverse a gash that bad, and while Kyo thoroughly expected the others to be immensely mad at him for having hurt her in the first place, nobody said a word. It was if they had decided he was too worthless for even their anger now.

It was no matter. He was plenty mad enough at himself.

Nothing any of them did, though, could hide the scars. Those, she would have forever. And so Tohru's left shoulder, marred by his inability that Tohru was Tohru and would _always _care for people unconditionally, served as a constant reminder of just how worthless he was.

There was absolutely no reason for him to have lashed out physically at her like that. He claimed to have come so far in matters of self-control, but couldn't stop for two seconds to realize he might one day come to regret hurting her. Surely being pitied would be better than being separated from her permanently. Surely he could keep himself from killing her like he'd killed his mother. Surely, even if the pity was so bad, there had to have been another way to make her leave. It was terrible, waking up every morning to be faced by the physical manifestation of his past mistakes, when he knew it had been unnecessary anyway. Maybe that rat was right. Maybe he was nothing more than a stupid cat.

But every once and a while, she would catch him staring at the scars he'd given her, remorse in his heart, and she'd give him a small smile that made him feel like maybe he wasn't really as bad as all that. Maybe he could pull through this.

Maybe, to her at least, he was something more than worthless.


End file.
